Sparring
by Jennarei
Summary: "Please remember to breathe. I don't want to have to explain to Leliana that the Inquisitor died at the hands of the Commander's ruggedly sculpted abdominals." Dorian smirked at her, taking a dignified sip of his ale as she struggled to keep the redness from her cheeks. "I-I wasn't – It was just –" "Spare me the weak excuses and ask him to dinner already."


The Inquisitor was shameless.

Absolutely shameless.

She felt that she should have at least been somewhat embarrassed, sitting there, openly gawking at the Commander. Well, perhaps gawking was a bit of a strong word. She was merely observing him. Very closely.

"If you keep staring at him like that you're going to burn a hole straight through his perfect pectorals." Dorian quipped from in front of her. The two were hiding in the shade, sipping on blissfully cold ale and pretending to play a game of chess.

"Oh, like you aren't."

"The difference, my dear," he chuckled, moving his rook and effectively taking another one of her pieces, "is that I am being much more subtle about it."

The Inquisitor took a swig of her ale, glancing down at the board in an attempt to salvage the game and cool the blush burning on her cheeks. She honestly wasn't _trying_ to stare, but the Commander was making it terribly difficult. The summer was in its height, and even though they were nestled within the mountains, the sun beat down on the Inquisition relentlessly. Possibly the fault of some strange ancient magic imbued within the castle's walls. Still, oppressive heat or not, the soldiers of the Inquisition had to train. Which meant a Commander in considerably less than usual, the heavy armor and mantle he regularly wore tossed aside in favor of a simple white shirt loosely tucked into his breeches. Not that the Inquisitor was complaining. At all.

"Watch your flank recruit, you leave yourself wide open!" Cullen yelled, pausing in his attacks to allow the young soldier to readjust himself. Once given a nod, he hefted his shield up and tightened his grip on his sword, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight.

The Inquisitor resisted the urge to swoon.

"Please wipe the drool from your chin. It's not very dignified." Dorian laughed, taking yet another one of her pieces.

"Shove it up your arse."

"Tsk." He shook his head, sighing as he put her king in check. "Not even a clever quip. I'm disappointed in you. I never thought you to be so easily disarmed. What will our enemies think of our strong-willed leader now?"

The Inquisitor was interrupted before she could shoot back what she thought was going to be a marvelous retort, by the voice of the Commander once more.

"Well done! Take a quick break men, we'll resume in a moment."

What followed made her choke on her ale.

He tugged the ends of his shirt from his breeches, and pulled the sweat stained fabric over his head.

Bless the heat, a million praises to whatever mage decided to banish the cold of the mountains ages ago because _Maker,_ Cullen was, for lack of a better word, magnificent.

His toned torso glistened with sweat in the hot sun, rough marks crossing his skin in scars from past battles. Still breathing heavily from the exercises, his chest heaved as he ran his fingers through his golden hair, pushing back the curls that were spilling forward onto his forehead. He sauntered over to the barrel of water kept magically chilled for the soldiers and poured some into his hands, foregoing a mug altogether and letting rivulets of water stream down his chin, dripping onto his muscled chest and down his tight stomach.

"Please remember to breathe. I don't want to have to explain to Leliana that the Inquisitor died at the hands of the Commander's ruggedly sculpted abdominals." Dorian smirked at her, taking a dignified sip of his ale as she struggled to keep the redness from her cheeks.

"I-I wasn't – It was just –"

"Spare me the weak excuses and ask him to dinner already. I happen to know a fabulous tavern where they serve the _best_ roasted ram I've ever had."

"You say that like it's easy." She had, admittedly, a bit of an attraction to the Commander. She had tried in vain to get closer to him, but the two had never managed to get beyond friendly conversation and clumsy flirtation.

"Oh quite, at least for those with undefeatable charms and looks such as mine." He gestured towards his admittedly perfect features and flashed her a charming smile.

The Inquisitor had half a mind to kick him under the table.

"Inquisitor?"

Her heart stopped beating in her chest at the Commander's voice, and she took a deep breath to compose herself before turning towards the shirtless and sweaty vision who was both making and ruining her afternoon. Her breath hitched at the sight of his characteristically shy smile. Only he could manage to seem so innocent while simultaneously being so sinfully gorgeous.

"Yes, Commander Cullen?" she mentally applauded herself for her steady voice.

"The troops were hoping to see you in action. Care for a friendly sparring match?" he rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed at having been put in such a position. He shifted his weight to one leg, stretching out his torso and making the muscles in his stomach seem to contract. She resisted the urge to gasp. Was it her imagination or did he just flex his arm?

"Oh, um, well I would love to give them a demonstration but um. I'm. I mean. Sure." Nice. Very eloquent.

"Oh don't worry about me, I'll entertain myself by watching this whole spectacle," Dorian laid back in his chair, adjusting his legs and sending her the most suggestive glance she had ever seen in her life. "By the way, checkmate."

She resisted the urge to send him a rude gesture and settled for the most disapproving glare she could muster. Making her way down from the covered walkway into the sparring area, she gracefully jumped the wooden fence set in place to separate the soldiers from passerby and felt her stomach swoop as she neared Cullen.

He was even more handsome up close.

His skin was covered in a fine layer of sweat, stubble lining his sharp jaw, the scars crossing his fair skin not marring it, but instead enhancing his physique. She had the sudden urge to trace her fingers over them. What most grabbed her attention however, were his eyes, kind and warm, a deep amber like the ale she had abandoned, and twice as intoxicating.

"So, how do we go about this? Should I send someone for my staff?" She managed a smile and he chuckled.

"If you'd like, my lady." She felt the air whoosh out of her lungs at his crooked smile. "However, perhaps you could show me what you've learned with a sword. Surely all of your training sessions haven't been for nothing?"

Well, that put a damper on things. Upon her ascension to the position of Inquisitor, she had received several different kinds of preparatory lessons, including diplomacy and fighting with more traditional weapons such as a sword and a bow in arrow, just in case her staff was for some reason unavailable. No one wanted their leader to be at a disadvantage. However, the sword was her worst weapon by far. Perhaps because her teacher was a monumental distraction.

"Oh, yes, of course."

"Right, then," he gave her another crooked smile and turned towards the soldiers gathered around the arena, all varying levels of interested. "Emily, lend the Inquisitor your sword please."

A particularly small woman with bright blonde hair hurried over, not daring to meet her eyes as she unsheathed her sword and gingerly presented it to her.

"Thank you." The Inquisitor gave her a grateful smile, which prompted a blush from the recruit as she scurried back to her place with a firm nod. The Inquisitor was very pleased to find the sword was nice and light, perfect for her thin arms. She turned to face the Commander and found him already hefting his much heavier sword in his hand, grabbing his training shield and attempting to position it correctly.

Still shirtless.

Well, if she was going to do this, she was going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

She stabbed the sword into the ground, undoing the clasps on her outer jacket and letting the long sleeves slide off her slim shoulders. She tossed it towards Emily, who blushed a deeper pink at having caught the jacket. Now left in nothing but her pants, smallclothes and a light white shirt. She rolled she sleeves up to her elbows and extracted her sword from the grass, hefting a nearby shield and testing its weight.

"Right, so we'll-" The Commander turned and seemed to lose his words, and swallow hard, "We'll um, just go for a round, basic spar, first one to yield loses."

The Inquisitor couldn't help feel a rush of satisfaction at seeing his eyes scan her body, suddenly very aware of how translucent the fabric was and how low the unlaced collar dipped.

"Sounds simple enough." She managed a light and jovial tone, despite the nervous strain of her heart in her chest.

The two circled each other, both waiting for who would attack first, the surrounding soldiers taking sides and placing bets, cheering on their chosen champion.

The Inquisitor lost her patience and lunged forward, shield raised and sword poised. He blocked it easily, the resulting shock rattling her bones, and sidestepped. He quickly tried to get in a hit, but she managed to shove her shield between the two of them at the last moment. He packed quite a punch behind his swing, and she was shoved back a good foot or two.

So those muscles weren't all for show.

Their dance continued for a few minutes, neither warrior managing to land a blow with their blunted swords, but none relenting. The Inquisitor was kept on her toes. Back and forth they went, circling, lunging, backing and blocking until finally, the Inquisitor found an opening. He had moved too quickly to try to avoid a swing, and was knocked off balance. She decided to hell with finesse and threw her weight behind her shield, barreling straight into the Commander with every bit of force she could muster. The combined attack knocked him onto his back, and she didn't lose a second to point the tip of her sword to his neck.

"I think I won this round."

The satisfaction she received from seeing his intense battle glare flushed and contorted into what seemed like shock was immense. The soldiers erupted into cheers, jubilant cries from those who had won their bets and laughs coming from those who reveled in seeing the seemingly unbeatable Commander bested.

"Well played, my lady." He panted, accepting her hand as she hefted him to his feet. Struggling to catch her breath as his body brushed against her. She allowed her hand to linger in his, small and dainty compared to his large and calloused fingers. He easily towered above her, the top of her head barely brushing his chin. Not daring to look up lest she lose herself all together, the Inquisitor took a step back, clearing her throat in a vain attempt to regain her voice.

"That was amazing, my lady!"

She turned to see the young soldier, Emily, rushing towards her, clutching her shed jacket in her arms.

"Oh, it was nothing really."

"Nonsense, I would have never thought to use a tactic like that! Where did you pick it up?" her eyes were bright blue, almost as pure as the sky, the inquisitor noticed.

"Um…Iron Bull has been very helpful in diversifying my skill set." That was a lie. She entirely made that up, although she wasn't entirely sure the tank of a man would object to the move.

"Brilliant! Um…would you like this back?" Emily held out the jacket, now folded meticulously.

"Thank you, Emily."

"Um Lady Inquisitor-"

"May I speak with you, my Lady?" The Commander was suddenly at her side.

"Oh, um, yes of course! Please, excuse me Emily. And thank you for lending me your sword." She handed the weapon over to the young blonde and turned to face the still shirtless Cullen.

"May we take a walk?" he started towards the gate of the training arena, holding it for her as she walked through. They walked in relative silence, the pair nodding and smiling as soldiers and messengers bowed and saluted.

"That was a very good match, my Lady. I'm pleased our lessons are paying off." He gave her a warm smile, hands neatly crossed behind his back.

"Well, I do have a good teacher." She felt the blush returning to her cheeks under his gaze, trying to retain a semblance of calm.

"I would say I'm decent at best."

"Nonsense, you're fantastic! I just won by pure luck."

His embarrassed chuckle lit up his features most handsomely.

"You know," he began, starting up a staircase to the parapets, "I believe Emily…admires you a bit. A few people do."

The Inquisitor was a bit taken aback, but smiled. "Does she? She seems sweet"

"She is a very dedicated recruit. Her ability as a soldier is quite a natural talent. Although perhaps, not as much as yours." His smile made her beam back, chest warm with his praise.

"Perhaps I should meet with the recruits more often. Dorian always says I could try to appeal to the masses a little more." She leaned against the battlements, looking out to the frigid mountains beyond. Cullen seemed to stay back a bit, hesitating.

"Yes, he can be rather…friendly. Charming to a degree. I suppose. You certainly spend a lot of time with him."

"He makes good company, as insufferable as he can be sometimes. I'm rather fond of him." She couldn't help the soft chuckle that accompanied her words. Dorian was indeed one of her best friends within the Inquisition, and she truly didn't mind his sharp wit all too much.

"Quite." The Commander's usual soft smile was replaced by a vague expression, lips pulled tight in a straight line. "Well, I'm sure you're very busy my Lady, I won't take any more of your time."

Her heart caught in her chest. Did he really think?...

"Please Commander, stay? You always run from me." She placed a gentle hand on his arm, realizing with a start that he had never retrieved his shirt. "That is, if you don't have things to attend to." She pulled her hand from his warm skin with a jolt, heat rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment as she tried to not stare.

"I…I confess I am confused."

"I would…Well um" she cleared her throat, voice wavering. "I enjoy your company Commander."

"And I yours, Lady Inquisitor" He still seemed unsure, but placed a hand on the stone parapets.

"Oh yes, well thank you. I –"

"WOULD YOU GET ON WITH IT?!"

She jolted at the voice screaming from atop the tower and saw Dorian leaning over the edge, clearly brimming with frustration.

"Is that…Dorian?" Cullen murmured, turning and shielding his eyes from the bright sun.

"It would appear so." She tried her best not to collapse with embarrassment or shame.

"What does he mean 'Get on with it'?" The commander turned back to her, completely confused and she resisted the urge to smack his utterly oblivious, handsome face.

"Oh for Maker's sake Cullen, just kiss me already!

"Kiss?"

The Inquisitor lost all patience and sprung, wrapping her hands around his neck and pressing her lips against his own, feeling him tense against her body. His surprise barely lasted a second before he had her pressed against the parapets, hands snaking into her hair and angling her face to kiss her deeper. Molten lava seemed to run through her very veins at his touch, and her heart continued to race long after he pulled away to look dazedly at her.

"FINALLY!" Dorian seemed to slump against the edge of the tower and she couldn't resist the giggle that bubbled through her lips.

"I – I thought - ?" The commander's face was flushed pink, which gave her much satisfaction, but his eyes were still laced with confusion.

"Dorian is my best friend, Cullen. While I enjoy his company his…interests lie elsewhere."

"…Oh."

"Exactly."

His face broke out into a grin so wide and so full of joy she couldn't help but laugh again.

"My Lady, may I kiss you again?'

"Please."


End file.
